


Just Close Your Pretty Eyes

by LiraelClayr007



Series: Time is But a Paper Moon [1]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 1970s, Angst, Introspection, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV Crowley (Good Omens), Pining, although Crowley thinks it is..., sometime after the holy water incident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 06:57:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19193977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiraelClayr007/pseuds/LiraelClayr007
Summary: You go too fast for me, Crowley.Just seven words. When taken separately none of them, besides his name, holds any particular meaning for him. But together they cause something inside him--something he’s tried to keep hidden, even from himself--to break.And when he adds the look in Aziraphale’s eyes…It’s too much to think about. So he doesn’t.





	Just Close Your Pretty Eyes

_You go too fast for me, Crowley._

Just seven words. When taken separately none of them, besides his name, holds any particular meaning for him.[1] But together they cause something inside him--something he’s tried to keep hidden, even from himself--to break.

And when he adds the look in Aziraphale’s eyes…

It’s too much to think about. So he doesn’t.

But he can’t get Aziraphale (not his eyes, don’t think about his eyes) out of his mind. The problem of the holy water solved, [2] he only has work to keep himself busy, but humanity is doing such a good job of driving itself to temptation these days that he doesn’t have to do much and still gets loads of credit.

So he thinks about Aziraphale. It’s not _on purpose_ , but they’ve been best friends for so long...well, it’s rather like saying to someone, “Don’t think about elephants.” What’s the very first thing to cross their mind? Elephants, every time. So if he happens to frequent Soho more often than usual it’s only because there are a great number of humans to temp in the area. And he likes that cafe. It’s the food at the cafe, and the coffee, it has _nothing_ to do with the view of the bookshop from the tables out front.

It’s a grey, misty Thursday morning. Crowley’s the only one sitting at one of the sidewalk tables; they have umbrellas, but with every gust of wind more droplets find their way to the chairs beneath. Crowley normally wouldn’t mind a bit of wet, but he’s just gotten a new jacket he’s rather fond of, so he miracles an invisible shield around himself to keep the almost rain at bay. [3] The waitress is irritated with him; she asks rather pointedly if he’d rather sit inside and makes quite a face when he answers, “But it’s such a lovely day,” in an even voice. So she brings him his coffee and blueberry scones and glares at him from the window every few minutes just to be sure he knows he’s wrong to make her go out in the wet.

Sometimes he just wants to say to people, “I’m a demon. I’m meant to be rude!”

His table is in the shadows; not deep ones, but Crowley can work with what he’s given. After all, he’s had a bit of time to perfect his craft. He wears the shadows like a cloak, becomes mostly shadow himself, just another bit of darkness on a persistently grey day.

_You move too--_

He closes his eyes, pinches the bridge of his nose. Too fast? Crowley is fast by nature. Or maybe it’s nurture. Either way, he’s got to be one step ahead of the humans; he’s spent his entire existence trying to outthink them, to use their creativity to his advantage...not to mention outsmarting his bosses below. Somehow managing to stay both on and off their radar at the same time.

But. He hadn’t meant to race past Aziraphale. His one true…

Friend.

Yes. Friend. His _best_ friend.

(Don’t think about anything more.)

Something moves in the window up the block. A flash of pink and cream. Aziraphale’s hand and sleeve, flipping the sign from _Closed_ to _Open_.

A glimpse is all it takes; his resolve shatters, and he lets himself…

Not hope. Never hope. But he lets himself _consider._

So pure, Aziraphale. Not perfect--a little less than perfect is much more interesting, in Crowley’s opinion--but always _bright._ The Arrangement has worked for all these years, against all odds, mostly because Aziraphale is just _so good,_ through and through. To even touch Crowley would cast him into the shadows. Or worse.

Wouldn’t it?

The bookshop door opens and Aziraphale steps out onto the sidewalk. Even in the mist he greets the day with a smile, his face shining brighter than the sun behind the heavy clouds. Crowley watches as the angel slowly turns, taking in all the activity on the street before him. He loves all of this. All of creation. Crowley can see it clearly in the way Aziraphale holds himself, the way he’s ready to welcome whatever the day has to offer.

Crowley draws the shadows closer.

 _I am darkness. Unforgivable._ he thinks. _It’s not my fault, but it’s who I am. And I can’t be anything else._

Aziraphale’s eyes skate past the place where Crowley sits. Though he’s hidden, even the almost-gaze warms him.

_I can’t be anything else._

_Can I?_

 

 

1And if he’s honest with himself, even his name is only a name unless it’s spoken by one specific being. [ return to text ]

2Aziraphale actually giving him holy water is another thought to be avoided; tucked away and ignored like a tartan thermos hidden in a safe. [ return to text ]

3Besides, rain on eyeglasses is too much torture. Even for a demon. [ return to text ]

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from Queen's "Teo Torriatte (Let Us Cling Together)". This song gives me feeeeeeelings.
> 
> I know this is (quite) a bit more angsty than everything else I've written about these two, but I--like so many others--can't get Aziraphale saying "You go to fast for me, Crowley" out of my head. So...
> 
> (And I'm working on a companion piece to this--from Aziraphale's point of view.)
> 
> p.s. I think all the footnote links work now. Please let me know if something is wrong. Or, you know, any other comments you'd like to share. 😉


End file.
